


discount offering

by tanyart



Series: Discounts for the Tribute Hall [2]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22233121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanyart/pseuds/tanyart
Summary: Shin makes out with a simulation of Drifter, take 2.
Relationships: The Drifter/Shin Malphur
Series: Discounts for the Tribute Hall [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1600354
Comments: 7
Kudos: 73





	discount offering

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate version of [Blind Offering](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21838066), originally for a kiss prompt, "kiss on the collar bone", but I messed up and made it too long.

The simulation’s programming must be bugged. It kisses Shin feather-light and gentle like Drifter never would, all across his cheeks and over his nose and down to his jaw. In his mind, he knows — he knows even with the light static buzz against his skin, it’ll never be Drifter. Hell, the way it brushes its cold fingertips against Shin feels like it could any stranger at all. If the simulation’s objective is to tempt him into believing in something that’s not real, then it’s failing. Shin knows it’s a lie.

“Shin,” the simulation murmurs against his lips. There’s no exhale, no moving air. Uncanny, strange tech.

Still, it sure does feel nice, being kissed like he deserves something sweet. It doesn’t have to be to this fake image of Drifter, Shin finds that he likes it well enough. He keeps close, shutting his eyes to the simulation— _no use keeping his eyes open if it’s not him_ —and leans in to enjoy attention.

Speakin’ of attention… the real Drifter seems to be hurting for it.

“Hah! Who knew you’d be into this ol’ bargain bin Drifter,” Drifter says, lip curling as he stands behind him. He seems more amused than jealous, and his narrow-eyed look tells Shin that he’s picking apart the situation, turning it over in his head to root out information for later.

“Wonder if it’s set to make out with anyone who’ll toggle it on,” Shin says, drawing back for a moment.

There’s a sharp bark of laughter, and it takes a moment for Shin to realize it had came from the simulation and not Drifter himself.

“You oughta ask him if he fucks anyone who comes through the Annex,” it says, sly.

Drifter snorts, but there’s an eerie reflection of that simulation’s laughter. “Maybe I do. You don’t know. Input _that_ in your programming, eh?”

The simulation throws Drifter a look, teeth bared like a taunt. _Interestin’_ , Shin thinks, what the simulation gets just right, before it draws Shin back in for another line of reverent kisses.

“Shin,” it says again, in a calculated way that makes Shin’s spine crawl.

Interesting, what it gets wrong. Shin slides his eyes shut, parting his lips to violet static and buzzing.

There’s no threat, so there’s no meaning to it. Shin isn’t sure if Drifter gets that, even though Shin might be showing his hand, showing how much he can be into this type of shallow affection.

Drifter’s gotta notice it. What he does with the knowledge is moot; he’ll never find a good way to use it against Shin. Not one he’s willing to risk, anyway.

“Hey.”

Drifter’s hand wrapping around his elbow halts Shin’s meandering thoughts to a full stop. Even the simulation pauses, eyeing Drifter.

Drifter’s smile is nothing but teeth, his eyes empty except for a criticizing glitter of irony. He leans forward, and so does the simulation.

Maybe Shin’s got it wrong after all. He doesn’t think it’s jealousy. The grip at his arm is possessive, but not begging for Shin to swing his attention around. The simulation keeps laying on the gentle, slow kisses, and Shin turns, open mouth for it, while Drifter unclasps the armor at Shin’s chest and goes for his throat.

Nah, Drifter’s not competing with the simulation. He’s trying to see which way Shin’ll go, and what Shin will reveal from it. Shin tips his head back, the gaudy bright gold of the Tribute Hall blinding in his eyes — well. Might as well reap the benefits.

His chest plate comes loose on one side, hanging precariously by a single strap, just enough for Drifter to pull at the inner layers beneath it. His mouth is working over Shin’s collar before he knows it.

Shin sucks in a breath, and blinks as the simulation’s holoform blurs his vision. A purple-tinged copy of Drifter cupping his face, moving like its breathing Shin’s name. It sounds so much like Drifter, rough and gravelly, but the dissonance rings when it gives an inaudible whine.

At his chest, the real Drifter twitches from the sound, and gives a low growl instead, somewhere between an _ugh_ and scoff. His hand over Shin’s arm tightens.

“Ain’t you the luckiest dog,” the simulation comments, nuzzling his cheek. “Havin’ both of us. Should charge you extra.”

Drifter is silent, but he bites Shin’s collarbone. Hard.

Shin laughs, a little heady, a little uneasy. He’s not ready to admit that he feels it more at his collar than the softness against his mouth. Drifter’s teeth scraping at his skin is _real_ , the way he’ll leave his mark is _real_ —closer to Shin’s bleeding heart than all the superficial kisses the simulation is laying on him.

Shin makes his choice. It feels a lot like throwing dice, not loaded to his favor.

He pushes back from the simulation, can’t help but lick his lips though. Damn, Calus has got some good tech. The simulation lets out a disparaging laugh.

“Oh, I get it,” it sneers.

“Thanks for the demo,” Shin says, throwing a jaunty salute with two fingers. “But we should get going.” And kicks the toggle panel off.

The simulation disappears.

“”Bout time,” Drifter announces, straightening. “Yeesh, Shin.”

He opens up a link, straight back to the Derelict. He doesn’t let go of Shin’s arm until the transmat takes them both away.

They land in some private part of the Derelict, and Drifter drops his hand. Shin undos the rest of his chest plate, letting it clatter to the frozen ground.

“Had enough fun with that thing?” Drifter steps in front of him.

“Mm,” Shin says, about to drop a biting remark, but Drifter takes him by the cheek, ungloved hand cupping one side of his face.

“Can’t have Calus knowin’ any more ‘bout me,” Drifter mutters, sounding peeved, and presses the smallest kiss to the corner of his mouth, leaving Shin stunned. Unbothered, Drifter kisses him again, angling Shin’s face slightly like he’s turning a new schematic or fine-tuning a gun that needs inspecting. His hold shifts to Shin’s jaw, firmer than the simulation’s touch.

Shin shouldn’t be surprised. He ought to have suspected; Drifter kisses him with the same light pressure as the simulation, and everything about it nearly identical except for the painful ache that settles in Shin’s chest, growing heavier the more Drifter lingers at his cheek.

Shin steps away, jerking his head from Drifter’s touch. He gets the reaction he wants — Drifter looking at him with that wariness, that hint of controlled fear.

But Drifter’s hand stays on his shoulder, thumb brushing against his bruised collarbone. Shin’s grateful for the sting before Drifter’s hand lifts.

“Huh. Not your thing, after all. Coulda fooled me,” Drifter says, sounding a little relieved. Like he’s glad to be back on normal ground, knowing where they stand. Like he’d hate to prove Calus right. “Don’t know why the simulation bothered.”

“Gimmicky,” Shin agrees, but he sounds breathy even to his own ears.

Drifter shoots him a glance, rueful, but he starts pulling at Shin’s belts — and Shin retaliates with a smirk and shove towards the wall.

Back to the usual then.


End file.
